


Snitches Get Stitches

by SaintJudith



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon), DuckTales (Cartoon 1987), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: 90s Drake is born in 54 and I headcanon Launchpad being born between 62-66, Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Coming Out, Gen, Needles, Pre-Relationship, Serious Injuries, Stitches, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintJudith/pseuds/SaintJudith
Summary: Drake gets a bad cut and it’s up to Launchpad to stitch it up but Drake realizes there’s something he forgot to tell Launchpad.Contains a non-graphic scene where Drake gets stitches.





	Snitches Get Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> I claim no ownership of characters used or movies quoted and am posting this for non profit reasons. Movies quoted are cited within the work and at the end of the work.

Drake held a hand over his side as he sat in the sidecar of the Ratcatcher. Launchpad was talking to him as he steered the bike through the city. He was prattling on about something, but Drake’s senses were too overcome to pay any attention to it. Drake knew it was an attempt to keep him alert and conscious as they hurried back to the bridge hideout, so he tried to give an indication that he could hear it. 

They had been on Steelbeak’s trail when instead they ran into a group of Eggmen. There were about four of them waiting in the warehouse that had held a party the rooster had been spotted at the night before. From the looks of what had remained it had been a little more electro than Steelbeak’s usual aesthetic. Darkwing had been going over the possibility of a Steelbeak and Megavolt team up when an Eggman had broken through his defenses. This particular Eggman had decided to bring a knife to a gas gun fight. Luckily he had missed anything too vital. Unluckily he had still gotten Darkwing pretty good in the side up by his chest. He’d probably been trying to get at his heart. But the Eggman had only managed a long and deep cut that had already stained his cape as he held it to put pressure on the wound. 

“DW, you still with me?” Launchpad asked over the roar of the engine. If Drake had been more lucid he might’ve noticed the barely concealed urgency in Launchpad’s voice. 

“Yeah,” Drake replied, his voice barely audible over the noise of the road. “Just thinking about how I’m going to get this stain out.”

Drake was still conscious when they got back to the bridge. He started a little when Launchpad picked him up out of the sidecar. 

“Launchpad! I can walk!” Drake protested, as Launchpad carried him over to a cleared table. 

“I know, DW, but you’re going to need your strength to heal from that.” Launchpad gently set him down on top of the table. “Where’d you say the first aid kit was again?”

Drake sighed, “The one that’s got the stuff for big cuts is by the gym equipment.”

“Got it!” Launchpad rushed off. 

Drake lazily watched as Launchpad went to grab the kit. It had been a couple months since Launchpad started joining him on patrol, and longer than that since he had gotten badly injured in a spot awkward to do his own stitches. He hoped Launchpad would be able to do a neater job of it. It would be annoying to have another jagged scar ruffling up his plumage. 

Launchpad set the kit beside Drake and started to fumble through it. He pulled out the antiseptic, the disinfectant, the needle and suture, and a painkiller without prompting. He handed two of the pills to Drake, who promptly swallowed them. 

“I would’ve gotten you a glass of water,” Launchpad said as he disinfected the needle. 

Drake gave him a weak smile. He appreciated the thought but in the moment less pain outweighed a damaged esophagus lining later. “Have you done this sort of thing before?” Drake asked, watching as Launchpad continued to prepare the needle and suture with confidence. 

“Well, no,” Launchpad admitted, “But I spent a while studying some first aid while you were recovering from Bulba. I wanted to be able to help more next time.”

Drake looked at Launchpad, who met his gaze. They held it as Drake wondered why he hadn’t noticed Launchpad studying. Drake knew that they weren’t always home at the same time. Had Launchpad hid it from him on purpose? Perhaps he didn’t want to look like he had any doubts in his hero. Or maybe he was afraid it wouldn’t amount to anything so why bring it up. Launchpad gave a small cough. “DW, you’re, um, gonna need to take off your shirt and stuff if I’m gonna be able to do this.”

“Right.” Drake didn’t move. It had just occurred to him that he never came out to Launchpad like he had meant to. Between adding becoming a father, a homeowner, and a roommate to his plate and all the trimmings that came with that, it had slipped his mind. It wasn’t like the top surgery scars were super visible anymore but there was the slight displacement in the lay of his feathers. A fact that always left Drake feeling self conscious. 

“Someone’s got to keep the pressure on the wound. Do you want to or do you want me to?”

Launchpad’s question broke Drake out of his spiraling thoughts. Either Launchpad takes off his uniform, or Launchpad puts pressure on the side of his chest. Both possibilities got Drake’s heart pounding when he should’ve been more concerned about how much blood he’d lost in the 30 minutes since the cut. 

“You keep the pressure on,” Drake finally said. “It’ll be easier to maneuver that way.”

Launchpad nodded and grabbed a clean cloth from the kit. He took a step towards Drake, who was still perched on the table. His hand slid under the edge of his turtleneck. Drake flinched at the slight touch of Launchpad’s fingers. They had yet to warm up from steering the Ratcatcher. The draftiness of the bridge base had done them no favors. 

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” Launchpad asked at the flinch. 

“No, it’s fine. Your hand’s just a little cold,” Drake admitted. 

Launchpad gave him an apologetic look and continued his movement up towards the cut. “We’ll change cloths on three. One, two, three!” At Launchpad’s cue Drake lifted the cape and immediately felt Launchpad apply pressure. Drake looked down at his now ruined cape. 

“Well, I don’t think that one is going to come out in the wash.” Drake gave his cape a mournful look. 

“Yeesh, gonna have to agree with you there, DW.”

There was a moment where neither of them moved, the cape capturing their attention. Then they remembered the position they were in. Drake started to move to take off his jacket and turtleneck the same time Launchpad gave another cough to draw him back to the moment at hand. 

Drake’s beloved hat had to be removed in order to take off the turtleneck, but he promptly replaced it. He didn’t want to feel too naked. When he looked up Launchpad was frowning. 

“I think it’s still bleeding. Can you take hold of the cloth again and lay on your side? Maybe elevating it differently will help slow it more if not stop it.” 

Drake let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Yeah, of course.” Drake took back the cloth, his hand touched Launchpad’s as he did. Suddenly the intimacy of the whole situation was starting to freak him out. Normally Drake was a high contact individual, but it was strewn about in high adrenaline situations or when Gosalyn was also there making her own hurricane of distractions. But now while they simply waited, Drake’s uniform discarded, the small touch felt like too much too soon. Drake turned his back to Launchpad as he laid on his side. 

Drake was lost in the muddle of his thoughts, trying to figure out the difference when he felt Launchpad’s flight jacket get draped over him. Launchpad didn’t say anything as he did this. When Drake glanced back at him, he was turned away, concentrating on the clock. “Okay DW, we should check the bleeding in 15 minutes. Hopefully it’ll’ve stopped bleeding or at least slowed enough so that I can clean it.” Launchpad’s voice was slow as he steadied it trying to focus on what he could do to help. “How’s your pain level?”

“Better than in the Ratcatcher,” Drake replied, averting his eyes from Launchpad. 

“That’s good. That’s good,” Launchpad said, mostly to himself. 

Another couple of minutes passed in silence. Finally Drake spoke, “Launchpad.”

“Yes, DW?” Launchpad answered quickly, waiting to be called upon. He turned towards Drake, attempting to meet his gaze, but Drake still had his back to him. 

“I’ve, I’ve got something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Drake was slow with his words. 

“Oh geez, this isn’t like a deathbed confession, right? I’m not going to let you die from a cut DW!” Launchpad’s calm finally broke. The panic that he’d been pushing down for the past hour burst to the surface. “I know I haven’t done stitches on a person before but I’ve done it on plane tarps loads of times!” Launchpad leaned over Drake at this point, closing the distance as a means of emphasizing his sincerity. 

It succeeded in making Drake shriek when he glanced up. “Geez, LP, not so close!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Launchpad said, backing up a bit. 

Drake sighed and swallowed, trying to calm himself. Launchpad was extremely loyal to him and had just proclaimed he wasn’t going to let him die. It’ll be fine. “Launchpad, I’m trans.” He clenched his teeth waiting for a response. 

“Oh,” Launchpad’s voice was calm again. “Thanks for telling me, Drake, but, uh, I already figured that out. And,” Launchpad made a small chuckle, “I’m trans too.”

Drake whipped his head around. “What?” 

“Careful,” Launchpad hovered, checking to make sure the wound wasn’t aggravated at the sudden movement. When he was sure it wasn’t he continued. “You didn’t notice? It’s not like I bind regularly. It’s pretty unsafe to do in planes. Not practical for a pilot.”

“Huh.” Drake glanced at Launchpad’s chest, realizing that he couldn’t remember ever seeing him without his flight jacket on. “I always thought you were just super jacked.”

Launchpad laughed. “I mean, I can be both. Plane engines don’t lift themselves.” Launchpad did a playful flex of his arms, showing that he was also super jacked.

Drake felt his face go flush. “So, how did you find out I was...” He trailed off. He hadn’t had to talk to anyone about this in over a decade. The words he wanted to say felt awkward on his tongue. The lack of use had left them feeling strange and unknown. He had been established in his identity as a man to those around him almost as long as he had been Darkwing Duck. Those who needed to know he was trans had known for years and to the rest it wasn’t their business. Just like it wasn’t their business to know Drake Mallard was Darkwing Duck and that Darkwing Duck was him. But here was Launchpad who now knew everything. 

Launchpad rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I might’ve been looking for some benadryl after a Bushroot encounter and checked your medicine cabinet, where I saw your T prescription.” He looked back at Drake. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I had meant to tell you. It’s been a hectic couple of months. I’m just glad you didn’t think I was taking illegal steroids.” Drake said the last bit with a chuckle in his throat. 

“What!? No way would I ever think that about you! You’re my hero!” Launchpad beamed at him. 

This time Drake was sure he was blushing under the mask. “Thanks, kid.”

“No problem, DW!”

There was another silence as Drake took in this new info. Launchpad had known. Not only had he known, he was trans too. Then a new thought came to him. Did Gosalyn know? Did he have to tell her? Had she asked Launchpad about himself? Drake didn’t mind the idea of Launchpad telling Gosalyn he was trans. It had been a long time since he’d had to explain any of it to anyone, besides Launchpad was good at making things simple. Easier to let Launchpad lay down some groundwork and field the first round of questions. Though Drake felt he should tell her about him himself. 

Drake reached out with his free hand and grabbed a hold of the bottom edge of Launchpad’s shirt. “Launchpad,” he said, his grip tightening, “don’t tell Gosalyn.”

Launchpad took his eyes off the clock to look at Drake. There weren’t many times where the smallness of him was easily apparent, But now, with the too big flight jacket draped over him and the overlarge brimmed hat half falling off as he held a hand on one side and the other gripping the edge of his shirt with his voice shaking, that was all Launchpad could see. He waited to see if there was more to this. People with shaking voices usually had more to say. 

“I, I want to be the one to tell her,” Drake got out. “I’m not ready to yet, but I’m going to find the words. It’s just been so long since I’ve had to tell someone. And I’ve never had to tell someone so young, and so irreplaceable .”

Launchpad put his hand over the one desperately clutching his shirt. He gently stroked the back of it with his thumb. Drake looked over at him. He was surprised, but he didn’t pull away. “I won’t. But if you want help I’ve had a little bit of practice.” The smile he gave Drake was one he wore often. One full of reassurances and support. Drake took it in greedily before Launchpad looked back to the clock. 

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” Launchpad said, seriousness all over his voice. He let go of Drake’s hand to slide the flight jacket off of the shoulder above the cut. The cloth Drake had been holding on it was not as bloody as the cape had been. A wave of relief washed over Launchpad, but it was not enough to soothe all that worried him about this situation. They still had to see what happened when the now bloody cloth was moved. 

Drake removed the cloth at Launchpad’s touch and waited for his reaction with clenched teeth. He could hear the clock tick the seconds away from its spot on the wall across the room. Tick, tick, tick. It was on the tenth tick that he heard what he was hoping for. 

“It’s stopped bleeding.”

Drake let himself breathe a sigh of relief. He really didn’t think he could handle another 15 minutes of waiting, or having to call up S.H.U.S.H. if they couldn’t handle this on their own. He hadn’t told Launchpad this but there was a S.H.U.S.H. doctor stationed in the next city over but the way Gryzlikoff commented on those visits always rubbed him the wrong way and he would avoid the trip if he could help it. 

Launchpad reapplied the antiseptic to his hands and rubbed a little over the cut. Drake winced. “Sorry, DW, but it’s going to keep hurting. You don’t have any local anesthetic, or any anesthetics, and I gotta pluck some of the feathers around the cut.”

“Ok.” Drake balled the sleeves of the flight jacket in his hands bracing himself. He felt Launchpad’s gentle touch as he secured the skin before making quick but firm pulls at the broken contours and the down underneath it. Launchpad was quick at it, not grabbing more than could be pulled in one swift motion at a time instead of trying to grab them all at once causing unnecessary pulling at the loosened skin. Drake was grateful for it as he clenched creases into the sleeves of the jacket, Launchpad starting on the feathers below the cut. They were removed as quickly as the row above them had been.

There was a small moment of reprieve as Launchpad prepared a little more antiseptic for the surrounding skin. Drake laid there wondering why getting those feathers plucked hurt as much as getting in a fight with Megavolt. He supposed the lack of adrenaline running through him had something to do with it, and Megavolt usually just electrocuted him instead of pulling out feathers from around an already throbbing wound. 

Drake was so entertained by these thoughts that he almost missed the return of Launchpad’s gentle touch as he rubbed the antiseptic over the newly exposed skin. Drake’s breath caught in his throat. And then it was over. Launchpad was back to resanitizing the needle. He caught Drake’s gaze on him. 

“Better safe than the opposite of safe,” Launchpad shrugged. 

Drake gave a small snort of a laugh at this. 

Launchpad hovered over the cut. “I’d offer you my hand to squeeze but I’m going to need both of them.”

Drake gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s fine. I’ve done this on myself before. I can handle it.” Before he’d been able to cry out in pain with no one to hear it. Before he’d been able to numb it with ice. Before he’d have cuts that didn’t need more than four stitches. Now he didn’t have any of that. 

Drake brought forth the monologue that was waiting in his brain, ready to be focused on, to grab all his attention, a grounding distraction. He felt Launchpad’s hand on his side, holding the exposed skin in place as he began. 

“He learned almost too late that man is a feeling creature,” Drake paused as he gritted out the words, trying to preserve the integrity of the original pacing. “And because of it, the greatest in the universe. He learned too late for himself that men have to find their own way, to make their own mistakes.” This line had more meaning than usual for him tonight, his most recent mistake currently being sewn up by his sidekick. He felt another stab of pain and continued. “There can’t be any gift of perfection from outside ourselves. And when men seek such perfection.” He grimaced, surely Launchpad must be halfway done by now. “They find only death... fire... loss... disillusionment... the end of everything that’s gone forward.” A shiver passed over Drake. “Men have always sought an end to the toil and misery, but it can’t be given, it has to be achieved.” Drake could feel Launchpad tying the suture off. “There is hope, but it has to come from inside, from Man himself.” Launchpad placed a nonstick bandage over the cut. 

“There, DW, you’re all patched up. Told ya I could do it!” Launchpad beamed at him, more relaxed than he’d been before now that the hard part was over. 

Drake slowly sat up, shifting the jacket so it rested over his shoulders, his hat falling back into place. Launchpad thought he looked more like himself.

“That was a nice little speech you made. Seemed familiar though,” Launchpad trailed off, trying to find the memory of it. 

Drake gave him a small smile. “It’s from _It Conquered the World_. An old sci-fi film I saw on TV as a kid. That monologue is from the end of the film. It always stuck with me.”

Launchpad smacked a fist in his open palm. “That’s where I know it from!”

Drake was taken aback. “I didn’t think you were old enough to have seen it on TV.”

Launchpad laughed. “No, no I’m not. Not’ve seen and remembered it anyways. But they showed it on _Mystery Science Theater_ couple of months ago! They didn’t do a lot of riffing over that part so you heard the whole monologue.” Launchpad’s voice was light. “It felt like that bit was a little above the quality of the rest of the flick.”

Drake spluttered as he hopped down from the table grabbing his uniform as he walked towards the chairs that would send them back home. 

“Aw, c’mon Drake. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Launchpad followed behind him. “I’m sure it’s a great film when you’re ten!”

**Author's Note:**

> Monologue from
> 
>  _It Conquered the World_. Directed by Roger Corman, performance by Peter Graves, American International Pictures, 1956.
> 
>  
> 
> [Youtube link](https://youtu.be/IHarPB15kQ8)
> 
> [Wikipedia link](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_Conquered_the_World)
> 
> [MST3K episode link](https://youtu.be/MKzw44MgJV8)


End file.
